Counting Cries
by Furny
Summary: A father dies leaving his daughter with only half of a fairytale. Now, as she grows up, she realizes that this isn't just some story, it's becoming her life. When her father's part of the story comes to an end, Gabriella must learn to continue writing on her own.
1. Fairytales

I have been out of the scene for three years now. I apologize if you liked my stories and I just disappeared from fanfiction. I still read regularly and review occasionally.

If you have never seen my name before, I think some of my last few stories would be worth your time reading if you like Troyella. (for the love of god don't read the stupid hannah montana ones I wrote when I was 12.)

I am not guaranteeing that I will ever continue or finish this story but I will try to put in a good effort. I actually leave for college in a month so I have limited spare time.

Let me know if you like this.

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Counting Cries

When I was seven, my father told me a fairytale about a prince named Henry Toyle. He was a young heir in a magical land referred to as Galtin. Henry was eager to grow up, take charge of the kingdom, and make a name for himself. While Henry only wanted power, his mother prayed to the gods that he would find a suitable wife and his father prayed that he would learn how to be fair, honest, and just. They wanted their son to be a well rounded man when he took the thrown. The problem that the Toyles noticed was that their son had no interest in settling down with a woman and his actions were anything but fair, honest, and just. Henry enjoyed fooling around with the ladies of good blood, laying around the castle, riding his horse into town and watching the townsfolk squirm under his mighty name.

Their son had become an asshole to be quite frank.

Then one day, after years of praying, his parents' wishes began to come true in the form of a foreigner. Her name was Jezebel Halbet a simple commoner from a neighboring country. She moved into town with her mother because of a plentiful harvest and Henry, as soon as he laid eyes on her, was hooked by her alien beauty. He did not know, at the time, he would fall in love with more than her looks. As it turned out, she grew up wealthy with a good education but when her father fell ill and passed away, she was forced to become a commoner. Henry was faced with a dilemma. He was not to marry outside of royal blood. No one would accept his love affair with a commoner. She was trash to the people inside the castle. If Henry betrayed his blood, he faced a chance of losing his status forever.

"Did Henry marry Jezebel?" seven-year-old Gabriella Montez bounced up and down on her bed, her father had just closed the storybook he was reading and began to stand from the chair next to her bed. Gabriella's long brunette hair shook with anticipation as she pleaded with her eyes for him to continue

"Honey bear, if I told you tonight; what would I have left to say tomorrow night?" the older man smiled warmly as his daughter reached out for him. They held a long embrace before she settled back into bed and he wished her a good night's rest.

"Daddy, are fairytales real?" she pulled her covers over her "my little pony" footsie pajamas and watched as he turned on her Tigger nightlight.

"Gabriella, my dear, they are very real. Now, that doesn't mean we're going to see a dragon flying across the sky breathing fire. From time to time, though, people experience their own fairytales. Someday I hope you have a chance to see for yourself," her father kissed her forehead, padded to the entrance of the room, and beamed at his child as he turned out the ceiling light.

"I love you daddy," Gabriella whispered, tugging the covers underneath her chin and slowly letting her eyelids droop.

"And I love you, honey bear."

I shouldn't have been so patient with my father that night. I should have made him tell me the rest of the story. What I didn't realize was that I would never have the chance to hear the rest. My father died the next day. He had a heart attack at work and no one was able to resuscitate him in time. The months that followed were the most difficult times of my life. Eventually I began to make up my own endings to the fairytale. Some nights I would be content with Henry's family loving Jezebel and letting the affair live while on the worst nights when I was angry or sad I would let the royalty squash all hope of Henry and Jezebel being together.

Maybe if he had at least told me the rest of the story, I might have seen what was coming next.

My name may be Gabriella, but I am convinced I am an incarnate of Jezebel Halbet and this is the story about my "Henry", teen royalty, prince of East High, Troy Bolton.

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Let me know 1.) if you like the idea, 2.) if you want me to continue, and 3.) if you remember me or my stories.

With sincere love for writing and reading fanfictions,

Furny


	2. Chester's

I am warning you, as of right now; I have absolutely no plan for this story.

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Counting Cries

Chapter 2

The grass in New Mexico is the driest of all that I've seen in my seventeen years. In San Diego, where I previously resided, we watered our grass until it glimmered in sunlight. Before San Diego, I had lived in Wisconsin. I believe the grass was even greener underneath the snow during the winter. I suppose this is the first experience I have had living in a desert, but I didn't know if I could handle the prickly brown lawn that surrounded my house. I stared down at my feet as I tested the crunch beneath my feet.

"Gabriella," my mother's soft voice caught my attention and my eyes shot up to her, "we will water the grass."

"I know," I slipped my flip flop sandals back on and followed my mom inside.

"Excuse me sir," mom directed her attention to some of the moving men who were placing the coffee table in the living room, "could you please put the love seat to the left of it and the couch against this wall here?"

"We sure can, ma'am," the one I assume was in charge nodded and showed a pearly smile before motioning his men back outside to the truck.

"Gabriella," she laid her hand on my back and began leading me to the stairs, "have you seen your room? It has a balcony!"

"Not yet," I was pushed up each step and onto the second level.

"It's the second door on the left," she followed me and watched as I opened the door to a room that was twice the size of my room in San Diego.

"Wow," I muttered and secretly smiled at the space I was given.

"Do you like it, honey bear?" I froze.

"Wha-what?" I hadn't been called 'honey bear' in ten years.

My mom's smile faltered, "I just want to know if you like it," her lips twitched upwards but her eyes held sadness.

"Oh," I took another look around and planned out the furniture arrangements, "yes, this is a lovely room."

"Excellent. Now we will do a little unpacking. As soon as the moving men leave we could go find a new favorite restaurant in this town. What do you say?" she dodged a man carrying two large boxes into my room.

"Sounds great," I gave her a soft smile and turned towards the boxes that were beginning to pile up in the corner.

"Gabby, it will be ten years coming up and his birthday is next month," she leaned against the doorway and folded her arms over one another, "do you want to go to New York?"

I stayed silent for a moment but nodded shortly, "yeah, I do."

I began unpacking.

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The city of Albuquerque was a lot larger than I had thought it would be when mom told me we were moving. I found out later that it is the 32nd largest city in the United States. Who knew?

"My iPhone says there's an Applebees around here somewhere. Hey look, there's a Texas Roadhouse," my mother pointed out. We were in the middle of the city scoping out the area for an appealing restaurant.

"We can eat those anywhere. I think we should look for something original," my eyes wandered around from the left to the right side of the street.

"Okay sweetie," mom also kept a lookout. Amidst the next few minutes she decided to start up a new conversation, "I know that you aren't looking forward to starting at a new school for your senior year. I am truly sorry Gabriella."

"I know mom," I sighed heavily not letting my eyes direct themselves to her, "they transferred you and you had no choice."

"We could fall in love with this place you know," she smiled softly, "I bet there are some cute boys around here."

"Mom!" I giggled letting my forgiving nature show, "I doubt a single boy will look twice at me. When we first arrived in San Diego the kids all avoided me."

"Honey that's because you were too beautiful for them to handle," she nudged my arm with her elbow and winked, "I can't imagine what the guys here will think when they see you. They will regret ever laying eyes on any other women."

I blushed and looked back out the window. I _had_ grown up quite a bit since we first arrived in San Diego. Not only did I have acne and braces I was clumsy and awkward. After a few years I grew out of those stages and I noticed that guys treated me different towards the end of Junior Year.

"Hey honey," mom snapped me out of my day dream, "have you heard of 'Chester's'?"

I shook my head.

"Then that's what we will have for dinner!" she pointed towards a small diner as we reached the opposite end of town.

"Oh wow it's adorable!" I observed the small restaurant that looked perfectly preserved from the 50s.

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It took us no time to find a park spot and hobble in. I was pleased when I spotted numerous waitresses in poodle skirts and skates rolling around expertly serving guests in nearly every booth. There were quotes and antiques hanging on the walls. In almost every booth sat teenagers about my age. There were maybe two tables that contained older folks out of 20 taken tables.

"It looks like we found Albuquerque's biggest hangout place," mom whispered as we were led to the nearest booth that was available.

"Just play it cool mom," I didn't want anyone to notice me and remember me on my first day at East High that upcoming Monday.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," she shook her head and slid into the booth across from me, "I am always cool."

I giggled at her, "sure mom. Of course you are."

We began to chat about everything under the sun. The topics ranged from what we would order that day at Chester's to life in San Diego to our brand new start in New Mexico.

The day was rolling by pretty well for the situation I was in until the bell on the front door chimed and a young brown haired man smoothly strutted his way into the diner. I could hear a lull in the amount of noise that filled the room and noticed all of the teenagers' eyes were keeping watch on the man. The man talked quietly to the host who then directed him towards the bar area and yelled into the kitchen.

Another man, a cook, appeared and smiled at the man who had just walked in.

"Troy Bolton!" he swiped his hands against each other, ridding them of flour, "how are you? How is the team?"

"Chester, good to see you," his voice like liquid, he took a seat and smiled lightly at him, the man I assume is the owner, "I'm perfect and the team is wonderful. We are going to kick some West High ass at the championship game this year."

"I don't doubt it with the way that you guys practice," someone called Chester from the kitchen, "I should get back to making your friends' dinners over there." He pointed to a group of eight who were waving at the young man at the bar, "What can I get you? It's on the house."

"You're too kind," the young man glanced down at the menu, "just a club sandwich with an apple."

"We will have that out shortly," Chester quickly made his way back into the kitchen leaving the young man alone at the bar.

"Hey Troy!" the teenagers sitting at the table in the back were waving and frantically attempting to pulled him into their group.

The young man, I assumed was named Troy, just waved back and glanced from table to table.

Then he noticed I was staring.

I felt lost in a pool of sinking sand. His vibrant blue eyes pulled me deeper and I couldn't escape their captivating gaze.

"Gabriella?" luckily my mother snapped me away from the young man.

"What?" I looked back at him but he had already turned to face the kitchen again.

"Are you staring at him?" she whispered, trying to point discreetly.

"No, I was just curious about their conversation. Nothing more."

"Well stare all you like. I need to use the restroom so I will return shortly."

My mom stood from the booth and searched for the bathrooms. As soon as I saw her make her way through the doors my eyes snapped back to the bar. There he was again; staring straight back.

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Thank you for giving this story a chance. I will try to keep updating at a reasonable rate. My apologies if I don't.

Please read and review.

-Furny


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